


Birthday Pancakes

by KianMay_Delcam



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Needs A Hug, Depressed Hank Anderson, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Drinking to Cope, Funfetti!, Gen, Glass is bad for you, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank Anderson Deserves Happiness, Hank Anderson Swears, Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, I'm Bad At Tagging, My First AO3 Post, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22083733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KianMay_Delcam/pseuds/KianMay_Delcam
Summary: Connor makes Hank birthday pancakes after Hank had a night of drinking
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 12
Kudos: 98





	Birthday Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KianRai_Delcam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KianRai_Delcam/gifts).



> Hi everyone! This is my very first attempt at writing fanfiction, so be nice please. Edits and comments are welcome! My sister is KianRai_Delcam (and she is actually a good writer), so check her out! And I know Hank and Cole don't share the same birthday, I just thought it would be a good prompt.

Hank awoke to the smell of pancakes and his favorite coffee.

He groaned at the damn jackhammer pounding away in his skull, he let out a strangled “What the fuck?” The pounding increased when he opened his eyes to the full force of the noon sun. He forgot all about the pounding when he saw the bottle of blue Gatorade and two pills of aspirin on the nightstand.

“Shit,” was all he could say as a jumbled, fractured memories of the previous night assaulted him in full force. He didn’t mean to get drunk last night and the poor android quietly humming some death metal in the kitchen was probably disappointed. He almost wished Connor wasn’t so damn nice and took the bottle of Black Lamb from him, even if they both knew Hank would throw a fit if he tried.

Especially since they both knew what today was.

Cole and Hank’s shared birthday. All Hank could remember was a smashed bottle, staring at that picture that was taken just days, DAYS, before that asshole doctor and truck driver took Cole from him, and Connor’s worried, sometimes scared, face. His LED was red in every single flash of memory.

“Shit.” He groaned louder.

A crash and an exasperated “Sumo!” sounded from the kitchen, a crash that sent flashes of pain through his head. Hank was up in an instant and stumbled to the kitchen as fast as his aching head would allow. Connor, with his back facing the incredibly hungover Lieutenant, was on his hands and knees trying to clean up the broken glass and pancake batter while trying to prevent an overly excited Sumo from eating it.

“No, Sumo!” Connor was slowly losing the battle against the St. Bernard. “Damnit. Sumo, broken glass is bad for you!”

At that unexpected curse from Connor, Hank let out a surprised laugh. “Shit kid, I didn’t know you could swear.” In an attempt to save Sumo from himself and Connor from short circuiting, Hank let out a “Come, Sumo.”

The dog happily trotted over to him, as Connor gave Hank a sheepish smile. “Swearing is highly unprofessional, Lieutenant”. His LED switched from yellow to blue as he was finally free to clean up the mess. “Sumo jumped on me.” was all Connor offered as he gestured to the mess.

It was then that Hank noticed the red, blue, and green spots littered throughout the batter. “The fuck kinda pancakes are those?”

“Birthday cake flavored pancakes, Lieutenant.” Connor said simply.

“Birthday cake flavored pancakes?” Hank was in disbelief. The kid pestered him endlessly about eating “nutritious” meals and drinking at least two liters of water a day. “What happened to egg white omelets and tofu turkey bacon?”

“I…” Connor hesitated and Hank could have sworn his LED flashed red.

That red flash alone spoke volumes. “You can tell me, kid. Its okay.”

Connor’s LED flashed red again and quickly switched to yellow. “I don’t know how to,” his voice cracked, his back turned to Hank as he went back to cleaning the mess.

“Is it about last night?” Connor’s silence was answer enough. “Shit kid, I’m sorry. I fucked up.”

“You don’t understand, Lieutenant. Its my fault you drank last night.”

Hank was stunned into silence, and Connor, having only a handful of months of experience with emotions, took his silence as an agreement. “I was the one who asked if you wanted to take Sumo for a walk around the park, like you used to with Cole on your birthday.” The kid’s LED was a solid red at this point. “It was insensitive and wrong for me to ask.”

Hank winced at the sudden flash of pain behind his eyes. He wasn’t upset because the kid asked him to go to the park of all places; he actually couldn’t think of anything better to do with his birthday then watch Connor play with and chase Sumo through the park. He was pissed at the world for giving him another birthday, while his son would never again get to chase Sumo. All he wanted last night was to have one drink to ease that unexpected ache of missing him. But as soon as he saw that picture, he lost complete control.

“Shit kid. That wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have been more considerate and asked what you wanted to do. I should have asked if you even wanted to celebrate. If I wouldn’t have suggested it, you wouldn’t have felt the need to drink after being sober for 26 days.” Connor’s brown eyes were so wide with guilt, that Hank’s heart stopped.

“Connor.” Hank’s voice was stern. “Last night was not your fault. Look at me, kid. I’m bad at this whole opening up shit and talking.”

Connor waited patiently for Hank to speak past the sudden knot in his throat. “I just miss… I just miss him, son. This day has been hard since the acc… accident. Hell, before you got here, I would spend the whole week trying to drink myself into an early grave. Since you’ve been here, Connor, I’ve been better.” Hank paused. “You make me want to live again.”

Hank took an unsteady breath, his hangover forgotten. His eyes no longer burned from the light; instead they burned from emotion. Connor’s LED finally transitioned back to blue. “Today is your cheat day,” Connor said.

“What?”

“It’s your birthday, so I made birthday pancakes. I even bought whipped cream for you.” Connor smiled.

Damnit, that smile was contagious. “Thanks, son. After those pancakes and a shower, how does that walk sound?”

Connor cocked his head in that puppy-like way of his. “Only after you finish your Gatorade, Hank.


End file.
